


alcohol and bitterness

by gothzabini (girl412)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley - Freeform, Genderfluid Ginny Weasley, Other, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, i dont know how to tag! forgive meeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl412/pseuds/gothzabini
Summary: Draco and Ginny are a disaster, but what else would you expect from them? Featuring some truly terrible ideas, masala chai and the romanticization of all actions that irritate Lucius Malfoy.





	alcohol and bitterness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HenryMercury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMercury/gifts).
  * Inspired by ["It was mostly Don Julio's idea."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611431) by [HenryMercury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMercury/pseuds/HenryMercury). 



> I don't know what to say that isn't gushing, to be honest. The only reason I can visualise this dynamic in any capacity is Henry's hilarious fic, which didn't just sell me the idea but also made me crave more so badly that after looking through the Drinny tags, I sat down and wrote this.
> 
> Henryyy I know you were gonna write more about these two so I hope this isn't overstepping in any way!!!!!! Anyway here is a gift for you because I love your writing a lot and don't know what else to do with that much literary appreciation, hah. 
> 
> I visualised this happening a little after the events in your fic, but I think it can be read as a standalone thing as well. I hope you like it <3

They’re sitting across each other in a restaurant, Ginny’s hair ruffled and messy, her cheeks endearingly red, and Draco’s shirt crumpled. He suspects that the bags under his eyes are very visible, possibly even transparently so. He meets her eyes and they both smile, involuntarily. It’s one of the weirdest things he’s been through, almost –it comes close second after the night he and Astoria had gotten drunk together and he’d been forced to listen to her wax poetic about Pansy.

“I’m genderfluid, I think,” Ginny says, at the same time that Draco says, “You should cut all your hair off.” 

They’re both quiet for a minute, and Draco suspects that the expression on his face matches the amused one on hers. 

“I should cut all my hair off?” Ginny says eventually, probably just to fill the silence. They’re having masala chai now, for no good reason, and it makes Draco feel oddly grounded, as though he’s found something permanent and not the moment of surrealism that seems to be his life. 

“A buzzcut,” Draco says, giving her a smile and taking a sip of tea that burns his mouth a little. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s a close thing, and when he looks up, he can see that Ginny is holding back laughter. 

“Okay, Ginevra,” he continues. “Would you like me to use different pronouns?” 

Ginny frowns, seemingly lost in thought. “I hadn’t really thought about that. No, I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” 

Draco sighs, thinking. Without even realising that he’s doing it, one of his hands is fidgeting with the slender silver ring on the middle finger of his left hand; the one with the purple amethyst at the centre and the Latin words around it. 

“Godricfuck,” Ginny says, bringing him back to full alertness. “You’re not engaged or something, are you?” 

Draco laughs at the absurdity of the statement. “No, though you must’ve heard what happened between me and Tori. We traded rings, did all the pureblood engagement formalities, and then came out to each other as the biggest homosexuals in Britain. We broke up and disappointed our families, but we kept the rings.” He smiles at Ginny, who’s listening intently, nibbling the biscuit that they always give with the chai. “Why do you think I wear this ring on my middle finger?” he asks, smirking. “Astoria has the Malfoy family ring on _her_ middle finger. It’s the ultimate fuck you.” 

Ginny blinks. “You just don’t do things by halves, do you?” 

Draco draws himself to full height, leaning back against the chair. He’s at least five inches taller than her. “I’m a Malfoy, Ginevra. We _never_ do things by halves.” 

“Is that why you won’t call me Ginny?” she asks tiredly, but he can see amusement in her eyes. 

“Calling you Ginny,” Draco says, shuddering exaggeratedly. “What a Gryffindorian thing to do.” 

“Call me Gin then. Anything but Ginevra, you wanker.” 

Draco wants to ask her if it’s a gender thing, but he doesn’t dare, not with the look she’s giving him right then. It’s a precursor to the Bat Bogey Hex, and they both know it.

“Gin, darling, I am so very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?” he says theatrically, moving his right hand in an elegant arc that would make a theatre student proud. 

“With all the begging and grovelling you are doing, Draco dear, you leave me no choice,” Ginny says, bowing her head in a manner that would seem resigned if anyone other than Ginny Weasley did it. 

They both share a grin at the absurdity of the statement, and then Ginny’s smile goes a little softer at the corners.

“This is fun,” she says. 

“It is,” Draco agrees. “Beats brooding any day. Bonds formed in the name of alcohol and bitterness are the best type. It’s a Slytherin saying.” 

“I still don’t like you,” Ginny says as Draco pays the bill and offers her a hand. 

“Ginny, you _adore_ me,” Draco drawls as she accepts his hand. “Where to now, dearest?” 

Ginny smirks, and Draco feels anxiety pooling in his stomach. “Malfoy Manor,” she says.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Draco murmurs.

“Your father tried to kill me when I was eleven,” Ginny says. She’s smiling, which only adds to Draco’s confusion. 

“I’m aware,” he says, hoping the tone of his voice will convey the apology he’s not sure how to word. 

Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t. Ginny doesn’t linger, going on to say “The least I can do in return is drink the Malfoy wine cellars dry.” 

Draco laughs softly and kisses her knuckles. “Okay. Your wish is my command.”

He Side-Alongs her to Malfoy Manor. 

He turns on the main lantern in the cellar, leaving Ginny to gaze dumbfounded at the shelves and shelves of wine bottles. It’s possibly the size of the Hogwarts library, if not bigger. 

“Fuck,” Ginny says, looking horrified. “There’s no way I can finish this.” 

“You can drink some of the best wines,” Draco promises, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “Straight from the bottle and everything. I won’t tell Father.” 

“On the contrary, I would like Lucius to know,” Ginny says, standing there almost insolently. Draco notices for the first time that under her lively exterior, she seems tired. 

“That can also be arranged,” he says, walking to the back. “Here’s some of our oldest. I’d pronounce the name but you would only mock me, wouldn’t you?” 

Ginny smiles. “Ah, Draco, you know me so well.”

She opens the bottle and chugs some down. “I still don’t like you.” 

“The single-mindedness of you Gryffindors,” Draco says dryly. Ginny passes him the bottle and he takes a large sip, passing it back. “Does it matter?” 

“No,” Ginny says pleasantly. “I think it makes things better, if anything. Because there’s the possibility –” She cuts herself off, takes another sip, wipes her mouth on her sleeve and passes the bottle back to Draco before she continues. “- for friendship and growth. I don’t have to dislike you forever.” 

“So much for Gryffindor sentiment,” Draco says. “For the record, I don’t like you either. But I think you’d make a good ally. After all, we have so much in common.” 

“What now,” Ginny murmurs, watching as Draco passes back the bottle and proceeds to get five more.

“We’re both arseholes,” he says charmingly. 

“You’re right about that,” she says, grinning. 

They’re drinking too much, but Draco can’t find it in him to care. They end up on the floor, lying too close to each other, Ginny’s head on Draco’s shoulder and one of his hands clumsily resting in her hair.

“You’re right. I’m definitely getting a buzzcut,” she manages to say without slurring.

“Brilliant,” he responds, and he sounds tired even to himself.

They’re both silent for a moment, and then Draco says, much more freely than he ever would without alcohol, “I miss him a lot, you know? I sometimes think he was the best thing to happen to me.” 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, mopey drunk,” Ginny complains, but her voice sounds fond. “Why do you say that?” 

“Because it was a second chance, despite _this_ ,” he says, pressing his fingers against his left sleeve, right above the Dark Mark. “Because everything in my life was shit at that point, and he did his whole Saviour thing, looked at me like I meant something. I don’t know, Gin, it’s like he brought out the best in me.” 

“You’re too drunk for your own good,” Ginny says, but he can tell she’s trying to be gentle. “And for the record, whatever good that’s in you is in you. It exists regardless of whether he’s there or not.” 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” 

“I like to think I’m over him.” 

Draco smiles, and turns to face her. “How lucky you are.” 

“You need to move on, you idiot,” she says.

“How do you propose I do that?” he asks.

Later on, she’d attribute her response to the alcohol, but at that moment, it made perfect sense. “Like this,” she says, kissing him.

They kiss for a while before Draco pulls back. “This is the worst idea we’ve ever had.” 

Ginny smiles and runs a hand through his hair. Draco leans into the touch almost instinctively. 

“All our ideas are terrible, Malfoy,” she hisses in his ear, and he wonders for a moment what it would’ve been like if she’d sorted Slytherin. “Never seems to stop us.” 

“You’re right about that,” he says. And then, carefully, “Ginevra Molly Weasley, would you be my boyfriend?” 

Ginny snorts. “What the fuck is gender, anyway. But yes, yes Draco. I would love to be your boyfriend.” 

“This is a conversation that should be had sober,” Draco says.

“This is a conversation we will deny if we’re sober,” Ginny points out. 

“True. Want to help me find sobering potion in this hellhole our ex calls ‘the murder mansion’?” 

Ginny smirks. “He’s not wrong. And okay, sure. Why do we need those?” 

“Because I’m going to give you a buzzcut,” Draco says. “And we’re not doing that drunk.” 

Ginny smiles at him, and it’s the easiest thing in the world for him to smile back at her. 

“I still don’t like you,” she says. 

“You, my dear, are a broken record,” he says. She flips him off and they both laugh.

“Anyway,” Draco says, somehow managing to get up even though the world is spinning, “I don’t like you either.” He offers Ginny a hand. “Shall we?” 

Ginny clutches it tightly. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> the murder mansion thing is a reference to [Stately Homes of Wiltshire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239806/chapters/14295997) that my traitorous head sneaked in for no good reason whatsoever other than how much i love that fic. 
> 
> also at everyone who's waiting for me to write _______________ i KNOW???? predictability is a virtue but it's not one i seem to possess, haha, sorry. 
> 
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! my tumblr's @gothzabini but you won't find me on there 'til July, earliest.


End file.
